#bit of a stretch for the prompt...

[overdevelopedglasses]

Tojoctober Day 29 - Haven

(Naa Tonight, chikai no)

Alt title is from Tonight -restart from this night-

Ichiban has a strange vision…

(Kiwami and LaD spoilers)

—------------------------------

Ichiban’s senses come into focus. The immediate sensation that hits him is his body swaying slightly, like he’s on a boat resting in calm waters.

As his vision fully comes into focus, he realizes he is on a boat. The hardwood deck is illuminated in a soft glow, but the string lights and lamps that dot the area are all turned off. Ichiban looks up into the clear night sky, and the source of the light reveals itself as a full moon. 

Ichiban gazes back to eye level, and sees a figure standing before him, leaning against the deck railing. As he approaches, he makes out more details of this person. A white-on-black suit, white tie, loose shoulder-length black hair and eyes that reflect what Ichiban could only read as a soft regret.

“So we finally meet, Ichiban Kasuga of the Tojo’s Arakawa Family.”

Ichiban cocks an eyebrow. “You’re…?”

The man thinks for a second, before giving him a slight bow, “Akira Nishikiyama. Former patriarch of the Tojo Clan.”

“Nishikiyama…?” Ichiban shuts his eyes to think for a second. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t place when or where he heard of it.

He hears Nishikiyama chuckle, “It’s probably for the better that you haven’t heard of me, Kasuga-san.”

“How do you know me?” Ichiban opens his eyes, and starts to walk towards him.

Nishikiyama turns his back to Ichiban, resting his arms on the railing. “Let’s just say… I’ve been watching over you.”

“Okay…” Ichiban feels like questioning it, but his instinct tells him to take this at face value for once.

Nishikiyama looks over his shoulder at the dragonfish. “You’re in a haven. You’re safe here, I’ll make sure of it.”

Ichiban lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He joins Nishikiyama by the railing, leaning over it and peering into the deep blue water. His mind somewhat notes the lack of reflections in the water before turning his attention to this mysterious person.

“I haven’t just been watching you, Kasuga-san. I’ve been watching the whole of the clan, and those inextricably intertwined with it.” “The whole clan?”

“Well,” Nishikiyama muses, “parts of it. I’d see many members get sworn in as patriarchs of families. I’ve seen oath brothers aplenty take vows together. I’ve seen the clan almost crumble, and then finally falling. I’ve seen figures of Tojo legend grow, shape the future, and disappear.”

Nishikiyama’s expression turns grim. “I’ve seen some members clash with a dragon, and meet fates similar to my own.”

“Did you clash with a dragon?”

Nishikiyama looks down at the water. “For people like me, it’s inevitable for that battle to happen. But what comes from our defeat is up to us.”

He turns to face Ichiban again, “Your brother was the closest out of all of us to redemption.”

Ichiban’s heart seizes, “Young master… is he-” Ichiban’s train of thought is interrupted by Nishikiyama’s hand on his shoulder.

He gives Ichiban a soft smile. “That, I cannot tell you. Some things are best left to the wind, Kasuga-san.”

“What about you?” Ichiban asks.

“Well, compared to what happened to some other people, look at me. I’m a part of this haven as well.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, think about it. I’ve been able to watch the clan for so long. I’ve seen history repeat itself at this rate. From the looks of things, the cycle’s been delayed, at least.”

“Wait, does that mean you-”

Ichiban feels the world lurch. He blinks, and sees the moon sitting on the horizon in front of them.

“Shit. We’re out of time, Kasuga-san.”

“Huh?” Ichiban says, stumbling forward, chest slamming into the railing, and feeling very lethargic. 

“Just… I probably shouldn’t ask for this, but can you do me a favor?”

“What is it?” Ichiban barely replies, as he feels everything slipping away. His vision goes white, his body starts to float, and the last thing he registers is Nishikiyama’s request:

“Take care of my brother.”

[rcbertleckie]

HBO WWII REWATCH week one · heading out + friends

[jess-oui]

💖  InuKag Week Day 2: Possession 💖  

Inuyasha knowing Kagome was safe with her family, after both being separated when the Bone-Eaters Well closed up.. I feel like he knew in this moment with more clarity than ever before that love is not possession.. Love is liberation. Even with the pain it brought him 🥺🥺🥺

[sysig]

Delusions (Patreon)

"Could I have your hand, sir?" Max didn't move, which Dexter was, sadly, getting used to.

"Sir?" Max jerked, then turned and stared at him, lost and blank. "Your hand, please."

Max's hand lifted shakily, and he laid it gently in Dexter's upturned palm. Dexter gave a quick and quiet "thank you," then turned it over in his own hand, observing him closely.

Too closely - his knuckles were rough and his fingernails were dull and cracked in places. His once-soft, not-a-day-in-his-life-subjected-to-hard-labour hands were now, already, toughened and split and scarred in places, especially the heel of his palm. He turned it over again, this time to stop looking so intensely. He had only wanted to give it a cursory glance to begin with.

"Do you know what I see, sir?" he asked as conversationally as he could manage, running his fingers along Max's abused flesh. He seemed to be at least half paying attention, his eye gazing down between them, and he'd occasionally twitch, encouragingly Dexter thought. He seemed to want to curl around him, then stopped and shook, his hand squeezing into a fist. Dexter coaxed him back out, encouraged him to hold himself lightly.

"What do you see?" He was almost startled by Max actually continuing their conversation, that happened so rarely now, shaking and quiet as it was. He took a deep breath, was he really going to do this?

"I see a hand, with five fingers." Max remained quiet, though his brow curled, and a guarded look came into his eye, though he still wasn't looking at Dexter. He felt a pang of guilt, but he had to try. "What do you see?"

Max's eye unfocused and began to water. He looked up, but not enough to reach Dexter's gaze in return, instead staring through his chest, and he felt just as hollow and empty as he must look to him.

"Do you take me for a fool, DAX?" Quiet and as close to angry as he'd heard since they'd been here.

No, not angry.

Betrayed.

He swallowed down the stinging lump at the back of his throat. He had to put on a brave face, had to keep his composure if he wanted Max to get better. That was the only thing he wanted, more than anything.

"Of course not, sir. Genuinely, what do you see?"

Max pulled his hand away and turned his body, his bandaged side facing Dexter. Shutting him out, pointedly. Dexter's empty hand curled into a fist, he was no better.

"Please, don't..." Max took a shallow, shuddering breath, and several beats before he spoke again, even quieter. "Don't ridicule me." Dexter could hear his breath catch, and he wanted nothing more than for this all to just stop.

"Sir, I didn't-"

"I've had enough of that." He shook his head stiffly, the action strange and wrong, like he had forgotten how. He stilled, his head turned even further away. "More than enough."

[sparxwrites]

(if you don't know what divine travel is, a) this won't make much sense, but b) you should because it's cool as hell and i've been conceptually obsessed with it for years now) cw for animal death

“We’re never getting out of here.”

“Shut up, Scar.

“We’re going to be stuck here forever.”

“Scar. Shut up.”

“We’re going to die, all alone–” He sing-songs it, drags out the o into an oooo. “–on this horrible world, full of creepers and zombies and things, in the moon–”

“Scar!” Grian, bloody up to his wrists, bent over desecrated corpses of three white rabbits, looks up at the man pacing circles around him. There’s a loop of viscera around two fingers of his left hand. His right thumb’s tucked just barely under a small, still heart. There’s a deep crease between his brows, dark bags under his eyes.

Scar, politely, stops pacing. Grian’s gaze is a physical weight. “What?” he says, shrugs. “It’s the truth. This is the third one of these we’ve been on, and we died in all the rest of them–”

“Yes, because someone couldn’t– 

“–and it was really unpleasant, especially that last one with the piglin–” 

“And who’s fault was–!”

“And then those things, in the moon–” He sings that, too, a little wobbly up-and-down like you’d do to make a child laugh. The fear behind it is tangible. “And they keep laughing at me, every time, and I can feel them watching when I–”

“Scar! Will you shut up and listen to me! Please.” Grian pulls his hands free, swipes lank and sweaty hair out of his eyes, off his forehead. “Listen to me. Scar. We’re not dying here. Not today.”

“Well, you might not be, but, as you so kindly keep pointing out, I–” Scar’s pouting, lower lip stuck out, hands in the pockets of his obscenely short shorts. He kicks a rock; it bounces, rolls, comes to a stop next to the glassy, bulging eye of one of the dead rabbits.

“We’re not bloody dying here today,” says Grian, triumphantly, “because I know where the End portal is.” He looks up, around, turns to meet the horizon with his gaze. The world stretches out in front of him, endless, wild, impossible. Foreign. But not entirely unknown – not any more.

“What? How?!” Scar’s staring at him, wide-eyed, something like hope in the set of his brow and mouth for the first time in weeks.

“Divine travel,” says Grian, baring his teeth in a grin. He holds up his hands, bloody, the crimson drying to brown in the cracks of his knuckles. The rabbits are stretched out on the grass, neat anatomical specimens, disembowelled, a fortune read in the warm trail of their removed organs. A map. “I know where we need to go.” He pauses, his eyes alight with all the fire of the sun rising in a halo behind his head. “Scar. Scar. We’re not dying here. Not today. We’re getting out.”

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

okay but the realization that Howdy is actually a little bit of a scoundrel? a scammer even?? was like the BEST part of the update for me!!! his got a bit of spice to him i like that!

idk if it’s just me but it feels like it’s very important that Eddie was the only have like a extra audio thing on his character sheet in the neighborhood besides Wally and the You page?? like that feels significant somehow right??

i just really loved both Howdy and Eddie in these updates they were so great

GOD i know i know he's got some Kick to him! he's got Flavor! i love how he turned the common perception of his character on its side - everyone expected him to be wholesome and helpful and sweet, and then the update came in with the fuckin steel chair-

hmmmm i can see both sides of the beetle on Eddie's bio - the significance, and the possibility of it just being There because most pages had 1-2 bugs, and the audio was about Eddie. but ALSO its so so likely that is Was significant! i honestly thought so as well!

i mean, the beetle is very uhhh, Valentine looking? the prevalent heart shapes, the soft pink-yellow-white coloring, plus its an audio centered on Eddie and Frank. we already know FranklyDear is going to be an established Couple - so i'd agree that the significant is There! and if we lived in an alternate world where we didn't know about FranklyDear, we'd all be losing our collective shit over this and theorizing the hell outta it

[emonydeborah]

November fluff prompt 25: cuddling

It started with La'an. After being cleared from Sickbay there had been no question of her going back to her own quarters. Una escorted her herself, unwilling to let her out of her sight, and when they got to her and Chris's quarters he was ready with strawberries and hot chocolate. La'an made a beeline for the couch and bundled herself up in blankets, bowl of strawberries in her lap and hands clenched around a mug. Una gave Chris a quick kiss, and when he declined her offer of help in the kitchen, she joined La'an on the couch.

Spock showed up soon later, as Una suspected he would. Chris let him help with more snacks, no doubt sensing his need to move and be useful. But after a few minutes of tinkering around, getting used to the quiet warmth that was so different from the tension and terror of the last few days, Spock carried his own strawberries to the couch. He sat cross-legged next to La'an, close enough that their blanket-shrouded shoulders pressed together.

Nyota was next through the door, and she let out a deep sigh as soon as she stepped over the threshold. She had Erica in tow, who looked unsure as if she was supposed to be there, but she gave Una a shy smile. Chris called a greeting from the kitchen, and for a moment the three of them chattered about nothing. Una stroked La'an's hair and let the noise wash over her.

After a moment, Erica wandered over to their little huddle. Her exhaustion showed in the slope of her shoulders and the bags under her eyes, and her hands were tightly clasped behind her back. She seemed unsure of what to do with herself, and bounced nervously on her heels until Una patted the spot next to her. Erica's face split into a relieved smile and she sat down, carfeul not to press against Una. Una squeezed her shoulder maneuvered her around until Erica's head was in her lap, and though Erica seemed confused, she made no move to get up. Nyota sat on the floor with her back against the couch, and leaned her head back against Erica's side.

The doors swished open, and the last puzzle piece slid into place as Christine took a step inside. She scrunched down into her shoulders, eyes darting around at all of them, and she didn't relax at Nyota's quiet greeting, though she returned it with the ghost of a smile. Chris swept in from the kitchen with a mug of steaming hot chocolate, and he kissed Christine on the side of the head as he deposited it in her hands. Christine's shoulders relaxed and she murmured her thanks, flexing her fingers around her mug.

Spock shuffled even closer to La'an and opened his blanket. The last of Christine's tension melted away as her face crumpled in relief and absolute exhaustion. She sat cross-legged next to Spock and let him tuck the blanket over her shoulders. Their knees brushed each other, and Christine gave him a smile.

Chris continued to putter around the kitchen for several minutes, cleaning up his mess and meal prepping for the next few days. Una closed her eyes and listened to the chopping and stirring. La'an slowly nodded off against her shoulder, and when Una next glanced down, Erica's eyes were shut in a peaceful expression. She couldn't see Nyota's face, but she had gone limp, and when she craned her neck to check on Spock she found Christine tucked into the crook of his neck with her eyes closed. Spock met Una's eyes and his cheeks tinged green. Una just smiled.

When Chris finally emerged from the kitchen, he took in the sleeping cuddle pile, and his eyes softened. He picked carefully over Nyota's legs and leaned over Erica to give Una a kiss, and she savored it, her free hand on his stubbly jaw.

Spock cleared his throat. Chris waved him off, holding the kiss until Una pulled away with a tired smile.

"You need anything?" Chris asked quietly. Una glanced around, and shook her head.

"Nope."

She had everything she needed right there.

-

for @justreckin, related to our post-gorn musings

[theresawritesstuff]

Prompt - Midge finds out she's pregnant after her night with Lenny in the blue room.

She'd had this feeling she couldn't shake for the better part of a week. Nothing monumental or show stopping or obvious, just…Something. An intuition. 

One she hadn't been truly sure of until the moment she saw him standing in that empty hallway. Bound for California…

Still, they made small talk. She held her tongue. 

They were already leaving things unsaid that were much more certain than this. He had enough on his plate…

"Okay…You take care."

He turned to go, bag in hand. Off to make a life for himself on the west coast for who knows how long. Maybe forever.

She should let him go. She should…

"I think I'm pregnant," she heard herself say.

He turned back, not sure he heard her right. "What?"

"It's early," she told him quickly, the words tumbling from her mouth or their own free will. "I-I haven't even been to the doctor yet to confirm anything but I just…" She let out a shaky breath. "Christ. And now you've got a plane to catch and a lease and–" 

"Wait…" He strode back to meet her at her side, processing. "You're saying it's…"

"Yours," she confirmed. "Yeah…"

He nodded, looking a little pale as he covered his lip with his finger. "You're sure? That I'm…"

"There hasn't been anyone else in a long time so…"

"Wow…" He puffed out a breath, glancing at the terminal anxiously. "Um–"

"I'm sorry. I know it's terrible timing. I shouldn't have said anything but–"

"But we don't call?" he offered a little sadly, turning her own words back on her.

She deserved that. 

She hadn't been expecting a call from him after the way things ended at Carnegie, after she'd screwed up so astronomically. 

Doesn't mean she hadn't wanted him to…

"We probably could have made an exception," she replied, attempting for light-hearted and not quite succeeding.

Lenny nodded. "Probably. Still, a guy likes to hear this sort of news in person when he can."

A tinny voice announcing the start of boarding for his flight to Los Angeles echoed off the walls around them, intermingling with the quiet strains of their song on the radio…

Lenny exhaled a sigh. "Look just…wait here. Okay?" 

"Lenny." She knew she couldn't ask him to stay. That it wasn't fair to spring this on him like this. It wasn't fair to either of them.

"Just…wait. Please," he begged.

She nodded quietly. "Okay."

She'd always had a hard time saying no to him when he said please.

He got a flight attendant to help him retrieve his checked suitcase from the luggage, a pink baggage tag hanging brightly against the handle.

"You didn't have to do that," she told him when he returned, even if she was grateful he had.

"I'll catch the next one," he replied.

"Is there anyone you need to call? Let them know you'll be late?" she wondered.

"I'll call my mother later," he promised. "But we should talk first."

"I suppose we should," she admitted.

"Bar? Not for you but–"

She held up a hand mercifully. "I get it. Bar is fine."

They made their way to a quiet corner of the airport lounge in hesitant silence.

He pulled out her barstool for her, treating her with kid gloves.

"Thanks," she gave him a smile, hoping to hide her nerves.

God this sort of thing had been so much easier to talk about when she had a ring on her finger and a ten year plan carefully laid out.

He took the barstool next to her, ordering a whiskey for himself and a club soda for her, tapping the bar nervously as they waited.

"So," he ventured. "Pregnant?"

"'fraid so," she murmured.

He took a moment, letting them both come to terms with it.

"Haven't you got a rocky history with that word on stage?" he teased finally.

She laughed despite everything. "Maybe they'll give me a few extra seconds if it's my own condition I'm talking about."

"Maybe," he conceded, downing a bit of his drink. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Fine. Really good actually. No nausea or anything like that yet."

He nodded quietly. "Okay. Well that's something. Otherwise I'd feel like a real schmuck."

"I'm sorry for dropping this on you," she told him genuinely.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Pretty sure I'm the one who asked to see your corset that night. We both had a hand in…well, you know."

"I do," she replied, smiling softly as she stirred her straw idly around her glass. "At least it was a memorable night."

"I aim to please."

He looked down at the bar.

"How um…how far along would you guess you are?"

"Not very. They actually start tracking from when your last cycle was instead of from the actual doing of the deed, so…about a month?" she guessed, belatedly realizing what she was admitting to. "Too much information?"

Lenny chuckled. "I think we're passed that point, Midge."

She shrugged. "Just wasn't sure how squeamish you were."

"I'm not," he assured her.

He took another fortifying swig from his glass.

"So…what do you want to do?" he wondered hesitantly.

Midge blew out a breath, giving it some thought. "We could try calling?  I've heard a few positive remarks on the concept. And you could visit if you want or I could come out to California, at least while it's still okay to fly." She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve as she second guessed herself. "Or I could send pictures if you'd rather we just…"

She trailed off, noting the tender, bewildered look in his eyes.

"What?" 

"Nothing," he shook his head. "I just assumed you wouldn't…You want to have this baby? My child? Our…"

He swallowed, struggling to find the words. "That's something you want?"

"Well the timing isn't ideal but…yes," she admitted.

"You're sure."

"Yes," she replied.

"There might be a little Lenny Jr running around making your apartment a mess, ruining your wallpaper in the not exactly distant future, and you're on board with that?" he asked again, a fond sort of smile creeping into his expression.

She shrugged. "There are worse things."

Lenny smiled, sipping his drink slowly. "Yeah I suppose there are. Timing isn't exactly ideal but…"

"But…" Midge agreed.

He turned towards her cautiously, considering his words carefully. "I don't mean to sound indelicate, but what about your career?"

"I've got two other kids at home, what's one more?" she quipped dismissively.

He gave her a look. "Midge."

"It's fine, Lenny. I'm not exactly new to juggling motherhood with stand up. I'll figure something out," she assured him. "I'm not gonna blow it. I promise."

He reached over, putting a hand over hers atop the bar. 

"We'll figure something out," he corrected. "And I'm going to hold you to that promise."

She squeezed his hand gently. "I appreciate that, really. But I'm not trying to make you feel like your on the hook or that you're obligated to–"

"Miriam," he said, looking at her fully. "As the mother of my future child, please give me a little bit more credit."

She felt a flush creep across her skin at the sound of her full name on his lips. 

"Okay," she agreed quietly.

He nodded, removing his hand from hers. "Good."

She sipped her drink, averting her eyes towards the bar. 

"I don't think you've ever called me Miriam before," she informed him.

"No?" he asked curiously.

"No." She shook her head, glancing up at him. "...It was kind of hot."

He put a hand over his mouth to hide a very bad smile. 

"Something to keep that in mind for next time, I suppose," he replied.

She arched a questioning brow at his confidence in a next time, laughing to herself.

"What?" he chuckled. "I can't exactly knock you up any more than I already have now, can I? Wouldn't hurt to make the best of it."

Midge smirked, stirring the ice in her drink. 

"That depends. Do twins run in your family?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he replied. "You?"

"No." She smiled, feeling more at ease with their old patter back.

After a moment she admitted, "You know. If this sort of thing had to happen, I'm glad it was with you."

"Yeah? Why's that?" he wondered.

She swallowed, wetting her lips.

"Because no one else has ever made me feel like you did that night. Made me feel cared for in that way."

"You mean when I hooked your leg over my–"

"Not that." She swatted at his shoulder lightly as they received a sidelong glance from the bartender.

Lenny smirked, looking rather pleased with himself as he arched a contradictory brow in her direction.

"Okay yes, also that," she conceded, keeping her voice hushed. "But I meant after. When you held me just to hold me. It was…it was really nice."

"I concur," he murmured. "At least until the slow runners called."

"And I found that bag in your bathroom."

He nodded, growing somber.

"Right. That."

"Is all really well?" she asked gently. "I know I didn't handle bringing it up well last time but I need to know, given that you knocked me up and all…Are you okay?"

She reached out to retake his hand in hers.

He turned his palm over, lacing their fingers.

"I'm working on it," he replied eventually. 

"Well if there's anything I can do to–"

"There isn't really," he informed her softly. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

She nodded quietly. "We can talk about it another time. Now what about that pack of lawyers of yours? What are we dealing with there?"

"Midge, this wasn't supposed to be a talk about my problems," he reminded her.

"Too bad," she replied, hopping off the barstool to dig one of his files out of the bag at her feet. 

"Miriam," he admonished, lowering the timber of his voice as he slid around her to get the file.

"Nice try," she smirked, flipping it open on the bar, glancing over what appeared to be a billing statement of some sort.

"Jesus Christ Lenny, are you really paying these guys that much?"

He shrugged, slumping back into his bar stool in defeat. "It's either that or face some options I'd care for even less."

Midge shook her head. "You're getting ripped off."

"You know your way around a courtroom better than I do?" he wondered incredulously.

"I know a guy. Mike Kessler. He'll charge you way less than these vultures and he's good. Better than good. You should call him. I might have his number in my purse actually."

"Midge, I've got a lot more charges against me than just saying a few naughty things to a crowd in the Village," he reminded her.

"And flashing my tits. Allegedly," she corrected with a smirk.

He blinked at the image. "I think I missed that."

"You were waiting for me out front. We just didn't know it yet," she replied, pulling the card in question from her purse.

She placed it against his chest, holding her hand over his heart. "Call him. I'll put in a good word," she insisted.

He shook his head, lifting her chin with the crook of his index finger to kiss her.

She was more than happy to oblige, letting herself get pulled in by his embrace, her eyes drifting shut.

"Thank you," he replied when their lips parted, holding the business card between his fingers, pocketing it pointedly. "Now back to why we're really here."

"You've still got the lease and the daughter out in California," she reminded him.

"Kitty," he informed her.

She smiled. "Kitty. That's a sweet name."

"Thanks. She's a sweet kid. Yours are…"

"Ethan and Esther," she answered.

"Right," Lenny nodded. "Are they in school?"

"Ethan just started kindergarten this year." 

"So did Kitty."

Midge couldn't help but notice the proud little spark in his eyes at that.

"How long's the lease?" she wondered.

"Six months. At least to start had been the plan."

She nodded to herself. "We can work with that."

"Maybe Kitty and I could come visit over Hanukkah," he ventured.

"I'd like that," Midge beamed.

"Me too."

Lenny smirked to himself, finishing the last of his drink, setting it aside.

"God, I feel like I should be offering to buy you a ring. Getting down on one knee to make an honest woman of you or some shit," he admitted, pulling some money for their drinks from his wallet.

Midge let out a laugh. "Well how could a girl say no when you put it like that?"

His eyes searched hers, looking for an answer to the question he hadn't quite asked.

"I don't need you to propose, Lenny," she replied gently. "Not right now. I…"

She let out a breath. "I don't want you to marry me just because you think it's the right thing to do."

"I can think of a few other reasons," he drawled, placing the money on the bar.

She shook her head. "I need to know that if you propose it's because you love me. First and foremost."

He nodded, getting to his feet slowly.

His hand came to cradle her cheek as he looked into her eyes, taking her hand in his other and bringing it to his lips tenderly.

"First and foremost," he promised.

He exhaled a sigh as the clock on the wall caught his eye.

"You need to go," she guessed.

He nodded, his thumb tracing circles across her hand, reluctant to let go.

"Promised Kitty I'd be home for her birthday. Should probably try to make good on that."

"Lucky girl."

He smiled softly, gathering his things.

"I'll call you when I get settled. Promise."

"Okay," she agreed, getting to her feet. "I guess I'll keep you posted on what my OB has to say."

"Please do."

"Not exactly how you expected your afternoon to go, hm?" she teased.

"One could say that."

She took him in in that moment, memorizing the lines in his face, the light in his eyes. 

She'd never expected Lenny. Her whole life she'd made careful plans for herself but she'd never once expected him. Never thought to imagine that someone like him would drop into her life, become one of her dearest friends and steadfast supporters. Never expected him to slowly steal her heart along the way.

Was it any wonder that an unexpected pregnancy after a night spent in his arms felt strangely right, even now with the cards stacked against them?

"We'll figure it out," she promised. 

He nodded, gathering his things in hand, a little bit of hope in his eyes that hadn't been there at the start of this.

"See you at Hanukkah?" 

"Can't wait."

She watched him walk away, still bound for the west coast. But this time it wasn't a goodbye.

It was the start of something much better.

[tortoisesshells]

74. Are you challenging me? For Elizabeth and James?

“Mercy?” Norrington, pale-faced and drawn, echoed Elizabeth’s word back to her, as though he were only a ghost trapped his own temporary office. She had walked into the fort’s subterranean passages as a Dante might have, ducking through a door under the shadow of the newly-reconstructed gallows – the heavy silk of her best dress, after the freedom of the affair of the Black Pearl, less armor than anchor – and, even in the company of her fiancé, she needed the one far more than the other. “Mercy, after what these men have done to Port Royal?” “Not for them – for Captain Sparrow – he hasn’t done anything to us.” He stepped towards her, and Elizabeth, sensing already his refusal, stepped back: “Miss Swann, think of what you are asking me to do.”

Send me a number and two (or three!) characters, and get a five sentence drabble!

[naurielrochnur]

Here's my Winterfest 2023 piece for @mellowthorn

I had an incredibly fun time neglecting all my chores and other adult responsibilities to make this.

There was a passage in "Ship of Magic" where Amber remarks about how she wishes she could spend her nights aboard Paragon, and they would stay up all night sharing stories until dawn. In a series that's mostly just tragedy after tragedy, I loved indulging in the though that they could have a little bit of peace for once in their lives.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2022 Day 26: Acorn

ao3 fic link. series link.

There’s too much healthy stuff. Kara’s not sure what she should’ve expected but she’s not going to lie, she’s definitely disappointed at her options. Kara has never been to the weekly markets that pop up near the water every Sunday, but she agreed to go because Lena asked and she’d say yes to almost anything Lena asked.

She’s not regretting her decision to come, far from it, because she gets to spend a couple of hours with Lena and her best friend is in jeans and plaid shirt combo that’s really doing things to Kara’s heart.

But really, she saw a store that only sold kale. Kale! She’s still not sure how that’s classed as a food. There’s a stall with some fancy cheeses which could be alright. There’s too many fruit and vegetable stalls though. And one stall she’s sure that she saw a sign that said “acorn flour.” She didn’t even know that was a thing.

“We can go,” Lena says, knocking Kara’s shoulder with her own.

“What? No, I’m having fun,” Kara says, but the look of disgust on her face gives her away when they near another kale store. Come on, she’s sure people are lying when they say they like it.

“Kara.”

“Okay, I’ll admit I’m not going to buy anything, but you wanted to come and I know for some ungodly reason you’re going to stop by one of the kale stores, so I’m happy to stay.”

Lena bites her lip. “Are you sure?”

Kara nods. “If you’re happy, then so am I.”

Lena ducks her head with a smile, and Rao help her, she’s adorable. “Thank you.”

Lena buys some kale, and Kara manages to control her disgust until they’re away from the stall, wrinkling her nose at the bag now swinging from Lena’s hand.

“It’s really good in smoothies,” Lena starts, but Kara holds up her hand.

“You’re never going to get me to eat it again, so there’s not point in even trying.” Kara had tried it once, because Lena had insisted and was smiling and Kara really has trouble saying no to Lena, but once was enough. Even Lena’s smile couldn’t convince her to try it again.

Lena laughs. “Fair point. But look, that place sells hot chocolates. I’ll buy you one, as a thank you for letting me drag you around this morning.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I wanted to spend the morning with you.”

“So, you don’t want one?���

Kara smiles. “I didn’t say that.”

Lena laughs. “Okay, let’s go get hot chocolates then.”

Lena slips her hand into Kara’s, threading their fingers together, and Kara freezes for a moment. Lena’s hand is warm, the contact grounding. Kara knows it’s cliché but it feels like Lena’s hand fits perfectly in hers.

It only takes a moment for Kara to unfreeze and she glances down to make sure she’s not just imagining it. But there it is, Lena is holding her hand. She’d endure any amount of healthy food for this.

Lena doesn’t seem to notice Kara’s distraction as she tugs Kara towards the place selling hot drinks.

Kara doesn’t realise she’s smiling until Lena points it out.

“If I’d known all I had to do to get you smiling this morning was get you some sugar, I would’ve done it sooner,” Lena teases, nudging Kara’s shoulder with her own again.

“You know me,” Kara laughs nervously. “Just can’t get enough junk food.”

Lena shoots her a look, clearly picking up Kara’s sudden awkwardness, but thankfully, she doesn’t question it. She does squeeze Kara’s hand though, which makes Kara’s heart stutter in her chest and makes her fumble when she tries to order a drink.

“Are you okay?” Lena asks, once they’ve placed their orders. Green eyes are on her, searching Kara’s own expression and Kara tries to appear normal, as if the fact that just holding Lena’s hand isn’t everything Kara’s every wanted.

“I’m good,” Kara smiles, and it’s true, despite their early morning out in what would normally be a nightmare place, Kara’s great, because she’s with Lena.

“Good,” Lena smiles, clearly believing her this time.

Lena lets go of Kara’s hand when they get their drinks, but once they’ve finished, Kara is the one who takes Lena’s hand, and Lena flashes her a small smile when she does and Kara didn’t think it was possible, but she falls even more in love.

(Lena is skeptical when Kara invites her to the market the next weekend, but she says yes when Kara insists. It takes three weeks of Lena buying healthy food but always insisting they get hot chocolate first, of walking around the market holding hands the whole time, for Lena to ask Kara out).

[magicicephoenix]

Benevolent - The Ink Demonth 2023 (#5)

Such a malicious, mindless monster can’t possibly have good intentions, especially not after killing you an uncountable amount of times… right?

(or: you can’t tell it’s a puppet if you can’t see the strings)

[sezja]

Febuwhump Day 6: "You Lied to Me" Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet, Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Part 1

Guydelot heaves a long, deep yawn, not troubling to hide it.

It's a beautiful day - balmy and clear, not a single cloud in the perfect blue sky - and for once, they're off-duty: no assignments, no missions, no training, no drills. He doesn't even have to shirk his duties, nor coax Sanson away from his own for a bell or two; no, it's a full day of nothing to worry about, nothing on their plate.

Naturally, Sanson the Stiff has elected to waste it on errands.

"I didn't force you to accompany me," Sanson reminds him, with an all-too-amused little twinkle in his eyes. "You could have spent the day however you chose."

Aye, but I wanted to spend it with you. "What, and leave you to your own devices? You'll be back to work if I turn my back for half a second."

"Nonsense." Never mind that Sanson won't quite meet his eye when he says it. "But these are things I've put off for too long - it's best I see them done while I have the chance."

Guydelot rolls his eyes, but doesn't complain; he's been trotting after Sanson all across Gridania all morning - a delivery to be made here, a form to be turned in there, a purchase to be made here, a favor to be repaid there. For all his theatrics, the bard can't deny it's a delight to watch Sanson in action, even beyond the battlefield: these little domestic delights never quite lose their luster. In truth, what would he rather do with the day?

"Just one last stop," Sanson promises him, sliding his arm through Guydelot's. "A brief stop at the Canopy. We can stop for lunch there, if you like."

He grins. "Well, if you insist-"

A commotion interrupts him; before he can even properly turn to see what's going on, something slams into them from behind, colliding with Guydelot. It doesn't knock him off his feet, but it's a near thing; he staggers away, reaching for a bow he's not carrying-

And then he pauses.

It's a girl.

A ragged, wild-eyed girl in what was doubtless once a nice dress of dark green velvet - it's in poor shape now; the hem of the skirt is ripped and tattered, and the sleeves hang off her shoulders. Burrs and leaves cling to the fabric. She appears to have lost her shoes, and her stockings are a lost cause; they too are in shreds. Her dark brown hair looks to have been neatly pinned up at one point, but many of the pins have tumbled loose, and tendrils fall loose and wild every which way. Her face, beneath too much cosmetics for a girl her age, is wide-eyed - scratches here and there mar it; between that and the state of her clothes, it looks like she went sprinting through the bramble patch, hitting every thorn along the way.

She tumbled when she collided with him, sprawling on the cobbles.

Sanson offers her a hand, propriety shoving his bewilderment out of the way. "Are you hurt, miss?"

"You!" She clutches his hand, pulling herself upright. She doesn't let go, clinging to Sanson's hand with both of her own, breathing hard. "Captain Smyth! I found you!"

Guydelot glances between the two of them, baffled - but Sanson looks just as confused as he does. "Chief?"

"Forgive me, I'm afraid I..." Sanson trails off. Pauses. Blinks. "Lady Raicheille?"

"Yes!" The girl looks frantically between the two of them. "I... I helped you, both of you, before. You remember. I know you do!"

Helped us? Guydelot's sure he'd remember if they'd been helped by a slip of a girl at some point; he makes a point of remembering favors owed... unless, of course, that favor happened when he was otherwise too preoccupied to pay attention. Which means only one thing - one very specific window of time.

His hands ache.

"You'd be Nourval's sister, I reckon." He'd never met the girl himself - not even half her brother's age, and twice as reckless, from the sound of her. Sanson'd spoken of her in tones of exasperated admiration. Not quite the ragged damsel working herself into a fit of distress before them now.

"Yes... yes! That's me!" She still hasn't released Sanson's arm. "Listen, I- there was... I-"

Sanson touches her hands with his own free hand, gentle. "Calm down, Rai. What happened to you?"

She pauses, sucking in deep breaths. Curious onlookers begin to disperse, now that the worst of the drama appears to have passed - encouraged by sharp looks from Guydelot. Whatever's going on here, the last thing they need's a bloody audience spreading rumors all over the Twelveswood. Guydelot remembers the girl's uncle all too well, and he'd wager good money not all of the bastard's scheming died with him. Whatever this is, he doesn't like the look of it, and he sure as hells doesn't trust it.

"There... there was..." She's thinking. Guydelot's mind sharpens. Whatever the girl says next, he knows, is going to be a lie. No one has to think that hard about the truth. "There was, um... an accident. I was... I was thrown from my chocobo's back, on the way... on the way from Fallgourd."

It'd explain the scratches, and the state of her dress, Guydelot reluctantly acknowledges...

...but it doesn't quite explain the bruises peeking out between the tears in her sleeves. Those are fingerprints, or Guydelot's a blind fool.

"Do you need a conjurer?" Sanson asks, gently. "We could get word to your parents-"

"No!" She all but yelps, eyes flying wide once more. "No! No, don't... don't trouble them, I-" Her eyes dart. Guydelot watches an idea occur to her - a sudden hope. "My brother," she says. "You could take me to Nourval. He'd... he'd look after me. Until I'm ready to go home."

Sanson exchanges a quick glance with Guydelot. Ah. So he does suspect something odd about this.

Nourval's been under the Adders' custody for a year now - not quite a prisoner, but under their watchful gaze nonetheless. He lives in a modest home, guarded at all times by two men. He is permitted to leave only seldom... and never to receive guests without supervision. If Nourval has received any visits from his parents - to say nothing of his willful younger sister - they have not heard of it, and Sanson pays careful attention to Nourval's circumstances. He seems to feel he owes the man something for the risks he'd taken a year ago on their behalf - on Guydelot's behalf - but so far as the bard is concerned, it was merely Nourval cleaning the slate between them.

If he no longer has it in him to hate Nourval for what he'd done to Sanson, nor does he have it in him to forgive the man, either.

"Well." He smiles, stretching. "This'll be fun, won't it? To Nourval's house we go."

"Yes!" Raicheille releases Sanson's hand at last, gathers her ruined skirt in one hand, and darts away, heading toward the residential districts.

Guydelot watches her go, unsurprised to find she knows exactly where her brother lives.

"She lied to us," he says, quietly. "You know that."

"Aye," Sanson replies, as they set off after her - she won't get far without their permission to approach Nourval's home, after all. "The question is... why?" His eyes narrow, and a chill creeps into his voice. "And what's been done to her?"

[yloiseconeillants]

VIERAPRIL - Day 2 : Tank

How can she bear the pain of becoming human? The end of exile is the end of being. (Angela Carter - The Lady of the House of Love)

leanashe belongs to @hermits-hovel

[kinkyrius]

How many kinseys are you, if you don't mind me asking?

Don't really know honestly, I'm mostly attracted to girls at the moment but I think at least some of that is coincidental. The major axis of attraction for me is not gender, but more proximity to transness. Trans people are so hot.

I think in terms of actually being in a relationship with someone, I don't think I'd mind as long as they understood Gender and I didn't have to explain myself to them.

[lexdrabbles]

Fire, rot, and other fun meet-cute ideas (The long overdue blupjeans ficlet!)

2. "Hey I know you’re pretty busy but would you like to defeat the invading aliens with me please answer quickly things are kind of time-sensitive" (from prompts for fun and profit).

@tentatively-positive-3 sorry for the wait!

(CW for main character death. Like in the first sentence. It's not permanent though!)

-

Taako went down, and man, Lup did not think she would ever get used to seeing her brother die before her eyes.

For a couple of cycles now, the crew had established a kind of rigid tier list of emergency security personnel to deal with any sort of threat ranging from wild animals getting into the ship (something mainly Magnus dealt with) to fighting off the Hunger. The twins were first on that list —Lup was first, really, something she would take any chance to lord over Taako—, and most times they were able to fend by themselves just fine.

This time around, when Magnus dropped, Taako had gotten Merle for backup— and now, Lup had seen a crossbow bolt go clean through them both. Merle seemed to get the brunt of it; he fell immediately to the ground, unmoving. The bolt had pierced his chest in a straight line with Taako's lower thorax.

"Fat load of help there, Highchurch," Taako muttered, pained, and coughed out a mouthful of blood as he forced one last magic missile out of his wand. Despite his state, all three bolts hit and each destroyed tarry black forms. Lup ran to his side and cast a glowing shield over the group just in time to block a streak of black fire hurtling toward all of them. She held it up with nothing but her brazen staff and kneeled down next to her skewered brother.

"Show-off" she chuckled quietly, but couldn't help some tears rolling down her face. She brushed some hair out of Taako's face.

"You know I gotta" he managed a quick smile. He looked so pale…"Hey, you gotta get someone else out here. Let Dav know to get the ship running and buy us some time".

"I know what to do, goofus." She held his hand and squeezed lightly. "Just… be okay?"

"See you on the other side," another weak cough and a chuckle, "that's a threat." His chest rose and fell and didn't rise again. Lup let go of his hand and dried her tears.

"You better."

She ran full speed ahead back to the Starblaster, dodging and blocking and flinching at attacks that came too close for comfort. When she made it, the engine was on and what was left of the crew was already packing up to leave. She intercepted Barry carrying a packed up case of field lab equipment into the ship.

"Hey, Barold" Lup's words came out half speech, half pant; she was out of breath. Her hair was flying all around her face, out of her ponytail, and it had somehow gotten even darker and windier in the span of two whole minutes.

"Hi, is everything okay back there? we'll just be maybe another 5 minutes before takeoff, securing cargo and whatn—".

"Cool, yeah, hey, I know you’re pretty busy but would you like to defeat the invading aliens with me- please answer quickly, things are kind of time-sensitive."

"Wh- me? No, hold on, I'm not qualified for security work! That's why—"

"Yeah, no, no, super cool that you're self-aware but Taako and Merle just fucking died, so that's kind of the sitch currently."

He seemed taken aback by that. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

"No time to be sorry, will you grab a wand or something and come help me fight these things? Again, kind of on a tight schedule here, bud."

Barry seemed on the verge of a panic attack: his face was bright red and he kept looking from the ship back to her and back to the ship again. She swore she could see steam rising up from his head. "Yeah okay, yeah I'll- I just don't- I should probably-".

At that moment, Lucretia ran out, clearly in a rush to get the last of the cargo on board. Lup hollered at her.

"Lucretia! Hi! Can you finish up here and be in the air in 10? We'll buy you some extra time to take off!"

Lucretia made a face that fell somewhere between shock, fear, confusion and relief. She looked at Lup, then at Barry, then back at Lup again. She blinked and shook her head as if to snap herself out of it.

“Y-yeah, sure, of course! The engine could use the additional time to rev up”.

“Great. Thanks, Creesh! Barry, let’s go. Pick us up at the arcane field when you’re up!”. She grabbed him by the hand and started running without stopping to let him pick up the pace. His hand was sweatier and warmer by the second, but in a couple of minutes they encountered the Hunger’s army, gaining ground at an off-putting pace.

Lup readied her staff once again. “You think you got what it takes, specs?”

Barry gulped and nodded helplessly, the look on his face screaming No. But he drew a wand from his robe pocket nonetheless.

“Great”. She shot three rapid fire bolts behind her and could tell by Barry’s wide-eyed gape she had hit bullseye. “Let’s buy the Starblaster those extra five minutes”.

They adapted to each other surprisingly quickly; Lup being used to being the offense to a more defensive partner, and Barry being more than comfortable dishing out shields and bolstering her attacks. A couple of minutes went by surprisingly quickly as she took out shadow after shadow, but the tarry forms were endless and seemed to be coming at her faster and faster. One or two came almost too close for comfort before being obliterated in blasts that Lup could barely keep from hitting herself. 

When a figure came into her line of sight out of nowhere, straight up in her space, she barely had time to react and brace for the worst when she saw a brilliant surge of green arcane energy shoot out from behind her. When it hit the black mass, it festered and melted away from the strike wound outward until it had fully disintegrated before her eyes.

She almost froze in surprise, but instead kicked her foot into the ground and raised a wall of fire that expanded like a shock wave between them and their attackers 

“Dude!” She turned back to face Barry; fire in her eyes, excitement and hope pumping through her bloodstream. “I didn’t know those things could rot!”

Barry met her gaze and smiled; his face was tinted a deep shade of red, but the intensity in his expression mirrored her own.

“I  didn’t know they could burn!” He was staring at her like she had just single-handedly wiped out the Hunger. “You know, maybe you should have brought that one out earlier.” He chuckled at her. Chuckled.

Lup rolled her eyes, somehow both delighted and impressed by this absolute nerd.

When they locked eyes again, it felt like time had stopped and allowed them to become a single, refined unit. The Hunger approached them in what now felt like slow motion; fear was no longer anywhere to be found within either of them.

They both nodded in assured mutual understanding, resumed their fighting stances, and got back to work.